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Friday, 26 September 2008

Visions of Swaledale






Just had a rather fab couple of days in Keld - with camping at the Keld mudsite and scoffing at the Keld Lodge - very good scoff, as it happens.

Any road up - I thought that I'd include a photomontageeroony of Swaledale, and I've borrowed a little cliche well used by peeps who take piccies.... I'm not using the other stuff about reflections or moods or the dark side of and all that artery hardening stuff.. Nope, its Visions Of...


We had two nice walks (me and Mike and Theresa from a go4awalk... the first being a classic and possibly traditional mope over the corpse route over Kisdon (you can't walk joyfully on a corpse road, surely...even though we did, quite) We had a little visit to the rather finely crafted summit cairn, and tea and biccies at the kearton tea rooms -- and back to Keld via Angram. All good, clean fun. 6 miles.


Walk two was on the CtoC path and then up to the fine and airy and not really boring due to the really good views summit of Rogan's seat - then via blanket bog to the even finer and yet more interesting top called Water Crag. More heather and bog and we descended via the archeologically archeological Gunnerside Gill, with it's archeology - and then back to Keld alongside the river, the fields sporting a fine crop of dead and dismemberred rabbits, or blind rabbits with swollen eyes who tried to run away but couldn't. Exciting and heart-warming stuff. A grand total of 15 miles
It strikes me, though that if the grouse shooting estates trap and kill all those stoats in those little traps on poles across becks...is it really surprising that the place is infested with rabbits, who seem to be paying the price in Swaledale at the moment. Somebody check my logic...


The pics are of some of the fine views seen, particluarly on day 2. You'll have seen the type of thing before. Its all a bit cliched, really.

4 comments:

john manning said...

Those helium-filled balloons are the scourge of the moors. My pal Robert and I had a terrific three days in a sodden Bowland recently (see latest issue of TGO) and met barely a soul in the hills. But, away from the very few roads in that region, the only litter we found was helium balloons. Seven of them.
I mentioned on someone else's blog about one of them being shaped like a woman and implied that Robert kept the litter to himself in his tent, which wasn't really true.
But I was out on the Calderdale moors last weekend backing up a mate's guided walk and found another one. This one had a tag attached saying it was part of a balloon race and the pupil whose ballon travelled furthest would win a prize if I sent the card back. Surely this card could be used as evidence of fly-tipping/littering so the school responsible could be sent to jail, or put on the ducking stool, or given a thousand lines? Crap example to set to their kids, says I. Maybe I should write on my own blog about it?

mike knipe said...

They should be made to inhale the gas and then make an enquiry at a Bank call centre ..or something.

But, John, its nice to see that your pal has found a useful purpose for this stuff. Brings a whole new meaning to "wombling"

Lone Walker said...

When walking through Swaledale a couple of years ago, following the Swale as part of the C2C, I was staggered at the amount of farm waste that lined the banks of the river. Black bags were the worst problem, stuck to tree branches and caught on stones in the river.
Although "walker waste" and ballons are a problem they pale into insignificance compared to the amount of rubbish farmers leave scattered around - and they are supposed to have a duty of care to the countryside! I must also show balance in my post of course and say I'm sure that some farmers are tidy.

mike knipe said...

This is very true, Lonewalker.
Polythene bags, bailer twine, shotgun cartridges, discarded wire, even dead animals....quite a few of the immediate environs of farmmyards are graveyards for old vans, tractors and all sorts of rubbish.
Actually, the amount of rubbish in Swaledale wasnt all that remarkable. There's places which are much worse.